


Trust and Loss

by vaderina



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Newt Scamander, Evil Picquery, Fluff, I wrote a sad, M/M, MACUSA and MoM don't see eye to eye, Not all creatures survive this, Sad Graves, Sad Newt, bitter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 08:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10737831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: Newt is back in America with the Ministry of Magic's protection. Picquery doesn't like him or trust him so she orders Graves to find out information about Newt and how to contain him. After all, anyone who travels the world by himself to free creatures from shady organisations should have more scars than he does. Picquery needs to know all his tricks and how to counter them.





	Trust and Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read.  
> Characters don't belong to me, only the typos and mistakes.

There had to be some kind of explanation why a man travelling round the world by himself, rescuing animals from poachers, smugglers, and other undesirables wasn’t more scarred and maimed than Newt Scamander was. Most of even the newest the aurors who seldom went up against such foes had marks to prove they fought and (mostly) won. Yet Newt seemed to bear very few such marks. Sure he had scars but they were mostly from his creatures – bites, scratches and what he claimed to be a stab wound from a juvenile manticore. Even without his highly illegal case full of monsters MACUSA had classed him as a dangerous wizard. The agreement MACUSA had reached with MoM was that Newt would be allowed to freely return to Britain without repercussions because of his assistance in revealing Grindelwald. The fact his brother held a large sway at the MoM meant that even on future visits MACUSA’s hand was somewhat tied in dealing with Newt.

After all was said and done, Newt was back in America a mere eight months later and MACUSA was powerless to stop him. He had his brother’s backing and important people from MoM had made separate thinly veiled threats that if anything were to happen to their treasured magizoologist then there would be consequences. With so much protection Newt swanned through border customs with ease, his infernal case gripped tightly in one hand. The Heads of various departments sat down together with Picquery as soon as they had news of the man’s impending visit. It was decided that while they couldn’t outright arrest Newt for purely existing and bringing his case (the MoM called it his life’s work unbelievably) something had to be done. Newt would need almost a chaperone to make sure he didn’t unleash his beasts in America. Hopefully said person would also be able to learn some of his secrets so should they need to arrest the man, they could hold him and his case without any problems. The task fell to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Graves tried not to sigh. Most of the department had already encountered Newt, most of them had favourable views of the infuriating man so were already excluded from his very short list of potential candidates for the task.

“I think it would reflect favourably on us if the Head of DMLE were to escort Mr. Scamander through America. It would ease you back into the field too, Director Graves. What do you say to a spot of covert babysitting?” Picquery asked with a saccharine smile. It was well know that while it took the good part of six months for Graves to recover from Grindelwald’s not so tender care, he was eager to get back to work. The healers had forbidden him from any strenuous activity and he was slowly wilting behind his desk and the ever growing pile of paperwork on it. Still. He didn’t want to babysit a potentially dangerous lunatic who, according to most reports, was more at home amongst his beasts than his own kind. Eccentric and mad. Wonderful.

“It would be an honour Madam President.” he grimaced back with a forced smile.

“Don’t take that tone with me Director. Be grateful I’m letting you of your office at all.” Picquery chided. “Excellet, Director you may go meet our guest as soon as you know his whereabouts. I’ll have your paperwork rerouted to other available members of staff. Thank you everyone, dismissed.”

Graves held back a groan as everyone rose to leave. He wasn’t paid anywhere near enough for this kind of stupidity. As the room emptied he heaved himself up from the table and tried not to wince when his knee almost buckled under his weight. The cane he’d taken to using grew to its usual size at a small gesture of his hand. There was nothing for it, he had an idiot to track down. A different type of idiot to his usual kind but an idiot by the sounds of it nonetheless.

Newt had just finished checking in on Jacob in his bakery when a shadow fell across him He turned with an apology ready on his lips but froze when he saw the man behind him.

“Mr. Graves. The real one I mean. Nice to meet you rather than your imposter.” he smiled disarmingly.

“Mr. Scamander. I owe you my heartfelt thanks form what I’ve heard. Perhaps I could buy you a coffee and talk to you a little more?” Graves nodded at the wizard who showed no signs of the bumbling fool most people’s impressions seemed to be.

“I’d be delighted. This bakery is a very good one I’ve heard.” Newt gestured to Kowalski’s behind him.

“Very well. Lead the way.”

The bakery was small, warm and had a few seats in the corner for customers. They sat, Newt’s case tucked between the wall and his leg while Graves propped his cane against the table. He would have had to arrest himself if he’d visibly shrunk it to fit in his pocket with so many No-Majs around. Their conversation was stilted. Newt looked relaxed but behaved almost aloof. He skirted around the topic of his case, what really brought him to America. Graves may be a bit out of touch in the matters out the heart but even he couldn’t believe that Newt came back solely for the reason of giving Tina a copy of his now published book. Though having thought about it, the book might give him some insight to the type of man he was dealing with. When their conversation fizzled out once again Graves took the opportunity to ask for a copy of the book. Newt looked dubious but he promised to send one over to MACUSA. Their coffee cups emptied and their conversation died up without either of them comfortable in the other’s presence. Newt was the first to make a move.

“Thank you very much for the coffee Mr. Graves. It was nice to meet you properly. I’ll be off now though, lots to do.”

Graves bid him goodbye and hoped it was the last he’d hear of the strange man. Indeed word of Newt Scamander was scarce. Almost as though he’d dropped off the face of the planet with his case and all his creatures. MACUSA continued to tick over, cases came and went. Graves was tasked with information gathering on a suspect group. He strolled through the industrial area at dusk, just another weary worker taking a shortcut through the warehouses on his way home. The group he was meant to be looking for were secretive, it had taken them weeks to track them down enough to find a potential base of operations. Now it was time to find out more information in order to put together a file and figure out the best course of action.

Graves got to the warehouse that had been flagged as the potential base and slipped inside. A low light hung in the far corner and Graves quietly scuttled towards it, a moth drawn to the flame. He squeezed between two stacks of boxes and could just about peek between them to get a good view of everything going on. There were five people huddled round a cage and were poking it. The creature’s squeals were ear piercingly painful. It screeched and raged in a cage too small for it. When one of the group moved Graves could see it was a Nogtail thrashing in the small metal confines of its cage. Apart from being very much illegal Graves couldn’t think of a reason these people would want something like that. It had no value on the black market, its parts weren’t used for any potions as far as he knew. This specimen looked half-starved as it was, ribs clearly visible through its skin. Despite it being just a creature Graves felt a pang of sympathy for it. Beast or not, nothing should be confined so drastically and be starved, probably beaten too then gawked at like some sick form of entertainment. He’d been through that and wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.

Before he could try to sneak closer and get a better look at the crates around him there was a slight commotion to the left of the group. Immediately they sprang to action as one, wands raised and glowing with half formed hexes. One of them approached the source of the noise and much to Graves’ dismay a dishevelled Newt Scamander was pulled into the light. He smiled beatifically at his captors from where he was forced to kneel.

“You know, Nogtails make wonderful pets if treated right. You should really give her more room to run around and feed her. I mean, can’t you see how her ribs stick out so much? No creature is healthy when it looks like that.”

An iron manacle clamped round his wrist and he was dragged to a pipe where the other end of the manacle was clamped to it, effectively binding Newt to it. His was patted down, his wand was taken from him and the group ganged up around him.

“Who are you?” one of them spat.

“Newt Scamander, magizoologist. Delighted to make your acquaintance. I would shake your hand except, well.” Newt gestured with his free hand at the manacled one.

“How did you find us?” the interrogation continued. Graves watched wide eyes as Newt divulged everything. He wanted to barge in to rescue to fool but he wasn’t sure if he could take on five wizards and keep himself as well as Newt safe. The questions continued, Newt carried on answering as though he were talking to newfound friends, he occasionally laughed delighted at a particularly forceful question. He was mad, Graves noted to himself, absolutely mad. As he was looking to move to a better vantage point for a surprise attack Newt’s voice changed. It turned cold and harsh with a hint of a sneer.

“You know, as pleasant as this has been, I really have other places to be. If you could just let me go, give me the Nogtail and let me go my way it would be so much easier for everyone.”

The group laughed at him mockingly and Graves closed his eyes in despair. The man was insane. He wondered if that tactic had ever worked. Probably not. He opend his eyes when Newt sighed dramatically.

“Very well. Just remember that I did ask nicely.” Newt said and disappointment dripped from his voice. Really? Graves wanted to laugh. The man had an iron manacle round his wrist which tied him to a pipe. It would restrict his magic. He didn’t have a wand and all his files indicated that he wasn’t exceptionally adept at wandless magic. Even Graves wouldn’t fancy his chances in Newt’s place and he was considered strong even without his wand. The sickening crack of an apparition gone wrong broke Graves from his thoughts. Where Newt had been was now a dangling manacle and as he watched the hand and wrist that had been left in it fell to the ground with a sickening thud. One of the group turned to throw up while another gagged loudly. It was only years of self-discipline that kept Graves from joining them in expressing his repulsion noisily and physically. Instead he swallowed back the bile and watched as Newt – who was now behind to group – struck. His first target went down after a sharp elbow to the back of the head. Newt swiftly removed his own wand from their pocket and hexed the two others who hadn’t responded too negatively to his little apparition trick. They went down with full body binds. Graves shook himself out of his stupor in time to help finish taking down the group. Newt’s fighting style was questionable at best. There was no hint of any formal training to it, just a mishmash of childish hexes, curses and a lot of foreign spells that seemed to centre more around disarming and disabling rather than injuring or outright killing. It was as peculiar as the man himself who had levelled a wand at Graves before recognising him and smiling widely.

“Nice to meet you again Mr. Graves.” he said cheerily as though he hadn’t just deliberately splinched himself. Graves tried not to look at where his hand should have been but was now a sluggishly bleeding stump with the whites of the bones shining through like a disturbing set of sightless eyes.

“Mr. Scamander.” he responded and averted his eyes as Newt casually strolled back to the pipe. Then he tried not the throw up as the man let out a satisfied little “ah” when he found his hand. He blew on the end to get some dust off his before a small hum of magic and gentle light fused the appendage back on. He turned to Graves and waved his newly reattached hand.

“As good as old.” He waggled his fingers and inspected the thin red line and swirls where the splinching had literally taken him apart. With a small frown he pointed his wand at the whorls and muttered something. The skin faded into a uniform pale colour with just freckles showing up where the scarring should have been. More freckles than there had previously been too by the looks of things. Suddenly it dawned on Graves. All the freckles. Newt wasn’t without scars. He just figured out how to transform them into something less conspicuous. He went up a notch in Graves’ estimates all of a sudden. No longer just insane. He was an insane genius. Graved watched him approach the cage where the Nogtail cowered in a corner, letting out small snorts of distress. Without an thought Newt popped the cage open and stuck his hand in. A few ear scritches and soft mutters later the creature crawled out, its long legs bent until it was creeping in a belly slither more than walking. Newt continues murmuring as the creature slinked into his lap, exposing its stomach in obvious submission. With a small chuckle and more reassurances Newt hailed himself up, cradling the creature to his chest. His case slid to his feet with a wave of his wand and without a look back at Graves Newt descended into his safe haven with the Nogtail cuddled up against him.

It was almost without thought that Graves quickly refined the tight binds on the group and followed Newt down. He’d heard many stories about the case and everything it housed but part of him had always assumed it was the exaggeration of wild fancies. The shack he found himself in was certainly nothing impressive. Sure, the undetectable extension charm was a nice touch but the space was crooked, messy and cramped. He watched Newt disappear out of a door and blindly followed, not wanting to lose the magizoologist in his own case. Graves stepped through the door and pulled up short. He was on a porch and looking over a multitude of habitats, creatures went about their daily lives everywhere. It was nothing short of incredible and Graves thought that perhaps the reports had sold the case short rather than anything else. He watched Newt crouch down and gently disentangle himself from his newest creature.

His newest creature. Graves mentally slapped himself. That was evidence from a crime scene. Incriminating evidence at that. In illegal creature held in inhumane conditions which will need to be put down according to the law. He rushed out after Newt. Before he could get through the habitats a giant feline body landed in front of him with a ferocious, low growl. Graves pulled to a stop in the face of a Nundu, head lowered and neck sack dangerously puffed up.

“Honestly. Amari you can stop that now. He’s not here to hurt any of us. Are you now?” Newt directed the last question at Graves, eyebrows raised at the wand clutched in his sweaty palm. Graves shook his head and put his wand back in its holster. The Nundu’s throat deflated and it turned to Newt with a low purr. He watched as the mad magizoologist let the giant predator rub its head affectionately against his face. A lick at his face left red scrapes up his cheek as the barbs of its tongue scored lines in his skin. Newt pushed the giant beast away with fond annoyance and lifted a wand to his cheek. The lines disappeared and a few more freckles took their place. Graves watched astounded.

“The Nogtail is safe now. You don’t have to worry about her.” Graves nodded mutely as his eyes tracked the Nundu which stalked after Newt. “Don’t worry about Amari. She’s just a bit over protective. Hang on. Here.”

That’s how Graves found himself with an armful of Demiguise which stared up at him with large eyes. The eyes changed from blue to orange and back again. It was almost as disconcerting as the hissing runespoor Newt seemed to be having an argument with. Whatever Newt was grumbling about he and the runespoor seemed to come to some kind of agreement and they swiftly moved on back towards the shack.

"Put Dougal down here, this is his nest.” Newt pointed to a small, comfortable looking hidey-hole. “I think it’s time we got some authorities in to deal with the people we’ve left in the warehouse. I know just the spell to summon them without us being found or incriminated in it. Learnt it in Poland a few years ago. Very handy.”

“Newt.” Graves tried to keep himself from looking too appalled at that and instead focused as Newt seemed to be fighting a battle in disentangling a Bowtruckle from his hair.

“Newt.” he called a bit more forcefully to get the man’s attention. “I am the authority.”

Newt’s gaze seemed to drift off slightly, none too fazed by that little bit of information.

“Well. Yes. But I don’t think you want to explain why Bernadette is no longer available as evidence and destruction. So I’ll set up the charm and we’ll go have another coffee. Good? Good. Now, Pickett you need to stay here. There’s a good sport. Let’s go.” Newt wandered into his shack and out of the case while Graves tried to catch up, flabbergasted at his nonchalance.

“Newt. I need to call this in. I was meant to be at this warehouse to gather information on this group. Not arrest them. Now there’s nothing to arrest them for. You’ve taken the key evidence and now we don’t know what else they’ve been up to. Please. Don’t make me do this?”

“Do what?” Newt turned innocent eyes on him. Graves tried not to believe it, as big wide eyes stared at him, looking lost and angelic. That look did not fit in any way with what he’d just witnessed the magizoologist do. He splinched himself willingly for crying out loud and took down a secretive dark wizard ring all for some pig on stilts literally single handed. That man was not innocent no matter how sweet and innocuous he looked. In the meantime Newt seemed to take his silence as agreement and smiled ever so sweetly while he rifled through the pockets of the still stunned and bound wizards and witches. He pocketed a few things which Graves decided was better for him to pretend not to have noticed. Or the planted evidence Newt seemed to be doling out without any remorse. Demiguise fur (ethically harvested from Dougal when he moulted. Newt had saved it all up for times like these), silver shells (it was so much better when the Occamy inside had finally left the egg for its new nest. Newt never understood why people couldn’t wait for the hatchling to move on. Silver was silver no matter the shape), and finally, much to Graves’ horrified surprise, Erumpent horn floated out of the case (Newt had a few stashed away somewhere – they were unfortunately a common find in his line of work). Newt surveyed his handiwork with smug satisfaction.

“That should be enough for immediate arrest. You left before any of this happened so you don’t know who was responsible.” Graves took a breath to interrupt but Newt ploughed on, “You heard them talking about a shipment coming in at the docks tomorrow midnight so went to case the scene there for a raid.”

“How do you know about that?” Graves’ eyes narrowed in suspicion. They’ve been trying to track this ring down for weeks now. How does a British magizoologist know so much about them when his aurors couldn’t come up with more than a possible warehouse address?

“You, Director, are bound by the laws. You can only work on the light side of it, can’t you? I’m not restricted by such problems. I see myself more of a free agent who can cross to the darker side and work within the laws there too. People talk if you know how to approach them.” Newt shrugged and poised his wand. “Ready?”

He didn’t wait for a reply before he touched his wand to the ground. A sigil flared purple under it briefly before settling into a warm glow.

“That should reach MACUSA in ten minutes. Come, I believe we have a coffee date on the docks.” Newt grabbed his arm and side-along apparated them. They ended up getting a coffee and a late dinner at a diner looking out over the harbour. Whereas their first coffee had been awkward and stilted in the most horrible of ways Newt suddenly seemed to flow. It dawned on Graves that Newt no longer saw him as a threat. More of an accomplice, perhaps even a friend. Part of him warred at the idea. This was a wizard with blatant disregard for local laws and anything that was beyond his narrow scope of interest. It was scary to a point. But part of him couldn’t help but be charmed by the man. He was ruthless, dedicated and held himself to a set of principles. Graves could respect that in a man. Their conversation steered clear of Graves’ work beyond the superficial and Newt also held back on his more illegal escapades.

“So, do you often splinch to get out of a situation?” Graves finally asked. The cup he’d been nursing after dinner was almost empty.

“It is surprisingly effective. Took a lot of tries to master it though. I wouldn’t recommend it.” Newt looked almost bashful. He looked up from under his lashes. “Most people don’t like thinking about it, let alone seeing it done. The reaction to it usually gives me enough time to retrieve my wand and either get somewhere safe or deal with those who wish to take me captive.”

“I’d not seen anyone do it before, it is a novel concept I must admit.”

“Yes, while I’m not fond of doing it, it has saved me numerous times.” Newt smiled. They stood and graves was almost alarmed when Newt took the bill and refused to let Graves pay.

“I did say coffee date, didn’t I?” Newt almost purred in his ear. “I thought a romantic stroll on the docks might clue you in to things a bit more.” He linked their arms as they walked towards the water.

“You mean there isn’t actually a shipment tomorrow night?” Graves’ brows furrowed.

“Oh no. There definitely is. I just didn’t take you to be the flowers and sitting in parks feeding ducks kind of guy. Unless I read you wrong in which case I know just the place ducks like a late night snack round here.”

Graves was infinitely grateful it was completely dark by then. He couldn’t remember the last time he blushed like this. Gently he tried to extract himself from the other’s grip.

“No, you didn’t read me wrong Newt. Just. I don’t usually, I mean.” Merlin’s beard. What was he trying to say? Newt rounded on him and slouched down to catch his eyes.

“In case I wasn’t being forward enough, Percival,” his first name dripped flirtatiously from Newt’s lips, “I like you. I like you a lot. I’ve just taken you out to dinner, delivered a group you had been investigating to you almost on a plate with ribbons, bells and whistles. I don’t like beating around the bush so I’m going to ask you outright. May I kiss you?”

Graves looked wide eyed at the magizoologist. There was a wild flair to the man, something barely contained under his skin. It was exhilarating and beautiful in its raw terrifying way. He realised that Newt was still waiting for his permission, a small smile tugging his lips upwards. Graves made up his mind, he surged forwards taking the magizoologist by surprise and earning a breathless laugh between kisses. Their foreheads pushed together and Newt gazed at him fondly.

“I think I like you very much, Director Graves.” Newt grinned toothily at him.

“I think I could grow quite fond of you, Mister Scamander.” Graves laughed. They linked arms again and Newt took him on a tour of the docks, pointing out vantage points, where the shipment was likely to come in and how to best apprehend everyone involved with minimal effort. Graves found himself impressed. The amount of thought Newt had put into this and his occasionally unconventional ideas appealed to Graves in a way he couldn’t put into words. It was a visceral attraction that sat deep in his gut. The fact that the attraction seemed to go both ways was a heady bonus. It wasn’t often Graves could indulge himself like this and he relished the opportunity.

The next morning Picquery pulled him into her office.

“Any progress with Scamander?” she asked. His mind stuttered. Techincally yes, he’d gathered enough evidence to give MACUSA enough power to deport Newt and probably enough to be able to garner a warrant into his case. The Nogtail was evidence. Except. Newt had made sure that there was other evidence in place, he’d given the Nogtail a habitat already and had settled it in. There was no need for the Nogtail to be pulled from its new home. Nor for Newt to be deported. He’d actually helped last night. But he couldn’t tell Picquery that. She’d have both their heads then. Instead he shook his head.

“Nothing yet Madam President.”

“Nothing? We need to be able to hold him if a worst case scenario Director. I need answers. And soon.” Graves nodded and left. He didn’t want Newt to be caught up in a diplomacy war. Yes his creatures were illegal. Yes he didn’t exactly work within the law. But he was harmless. He wasn’t a fanatic obsessed with exposing wizards to the world at large. He just wanted to keep his creatrues safe and rescue as many as he could. Where was the harm in that?

A few evenings later Graves was poring over a report late into the evening when there was a light knock on his door. He frowned, nobody else was around, they should have all gone home hours ago. Just because he was a glutton for punishment and worked long hours didn’t mean others should too. He grasped his wand under the table and motioned the door to open. Newt stood there awkwardly. Where he’d normally be clutching his case he held a picnic basket.

“Thought you might appreciate dinner.” he smiled in greeting and Graves found himself grinning back.

“I appreciate dinner and seeing you.”

Newt blushed slightly. There were new freckles on his neck and Graves traced them inquisitively with gentle fingers.

“Do I want to know?”

“Oh, it was only Herman. He got a little excited and confused at feeding time.” Newt brushed his concern off with disinterest.

“Dare I ask who Herman is?” Newt’s eyes glinted dangerously with mirth.

“You can meet him if you’d like?” Before Graves could respond Newt had pulled a bright green spiky cocoon from his sleeve. He held it up for Graves to pet. Where he expected it to be prickly it was deceptively soft, the spikes like little mounds of melted marshmallows.

“This is Herman. Now watch.” Newt flicked his wrist in a practiced, fluid motion and the cocoon erupted into a colourful magnificently blue creature which rapidly curled back up into the small green ball in Newt’s palm again. “He’s a swooping evil and he lives in my sleeve. Much like Pickett likes under the lapel of my coat. Both are wonderfully handy if caught. Herman is usually a model creature. Just, I was working on a new feeding formula for him and I think he got confused and tried to eat me instead. As I said, nothing to worry about.”

“Your swooping evil tried to eat your brains. But it’s nothing to worry about?” Graves was incredulous.

“Well yes, I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“I’m never going to understand you, you strange strange man.” Graves laughed and ducked in for a kiss before they settled on the blanket Newt had brought along with the picnic. Dinner took a lot longer than anticipated, food forgotten between bites when kissing seemed more important. Newt fed Graves the strawberries and melon pieces he’d brought as a healthy dessert. In return Graves kissed the ketchup and mustard from round Newt’s lips which ended with them sprawled on the ground, Newt’s hand fisted in the short strands of hair at the back of his neck while he pressed a thigh between his legs as they kissed noisily. Newt’s head thumped back against the floor with a thunk as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Unless you stop now I’m sending you my cleaning bill. These are my best trousers I’ll have you know.” he gasped. Graves nipped at his neck and chin with a small huff of laughter.

“Don’t tell me you, the scoundrel, got all dressed up in your finest for little old moi.” he murmured against the stubble, loving the way it rasped against his lips.

“Don’t kid yourself. I had a hot date tonight with a very handsome and powerful man.” Newt looked up at him, eyes slightly glassy.

“Uhuh. But could this dashing and influential man do this?” Graves teased and he started placing feather light kisses on every freckle he could see. Newt giggled and squirmed under him.

“No. But I don’t think he could resist this.” Newt laughed as his hands tracked to Grave’s side and without warning he dug them into the soft sensitive flesh with glee. He tickled Graves relentlessly as the other man squealed and rolled off Newt followed him laughing. Graves tried to swat him away, torn between laughing and shrieking. They rolled into the table with a heavy thud and the chair behind it toppled. A knock sounded on the door.

“Director, are you okay?” It was Picquery. Their eyes went wide. Nobody else was meant to be around. They weren’t meant to be interrupted. They sprang apart and Graves flicked his wand to tidy up as the door swung open. They stood in front of the desk, looking rumpled and dishevelled while the picnic basket sat innocuously by their feet.

“Everything okay in here?” Picquery looked between them, one eyebrow raised delicately.

“Just fine Madam President. Mr. Scamander was just showing me a technique he’s used before when in a tight corner. I’m struggling to master it.” Graves couldn’t believe the lies dropping from his mouth. Newt nodded along beside him, cheeks flushed red from exertion. They both desperately wanted Picquery to believe them. She cast a doubtful glance between them.

“See that you’re more quiet about it please. And Director, go home. It’s late and I expect a meeting with you first thing in the morning. Mr. Scamander, please come in tomorrow morning. I believe we have much to discuss about a case. Good night gentlemen.” She left without a second glance at them.

The next morning Graves knocked apprehensively on the president’s office door. It swung open soundlessly and she beckoned him in. He stood in front of her desk, hands clasped behind his back.

“I need to know how to contain Newton Scamander, Director.” she didn’t bother beating round the bush.

“I don’t have anything useful for you yet Madam President.” he replied evenly.

“Last night a Quintaped tore through the lower parts of Brooklyn Director. It had to have been smuggled in and the only lead we have right now is Mr. Scamander and his case. He’s coming in as we speak. I told him there’s a case we need to talk about. I just didn’t specify it was his case. Now, I need to know what you do to contain him. I don’t want to hurt him any more than absolutely necessary. But I need him contained and the case destroyed.”

“He doesn’t have a Quintaped.” Graves bit out, mind whirring.

“I’m afraid you can’t prove that Director Graves. And you wouldn’t know that unless you’ve been in the case. Think very carefully about your next words Director. Your job and reputation are on the line. Would you risk everything you’ve worked your whole life for, just for a fling with a ruffian who probably has someone in every town he visits?”

“He’s done nothing wrong.” Graves surprised himself by that. He knew Newt danced a fine line between legal and not. But he really was innocent this time.

“You might think that Director. But I won’t be able to ignore your resistance any longer. Now, your job or Scamander? You’re going to have to choose whether you want to join him behind bars and be the ridicule of the country or will you actually do the job I’m paying you to do?”

Graves’ shoulders slumped. He was backed into a corner with no way out.

“I have indeed been into his case.”

“That’s a good start. Tell me, how many aurors and disposal teams will we need?” Picquery smiled coldly at him and Graves started listing the creatures and what they’d need to contain Newt in a flat tone.

By the time Newt got to MACUSA, case clutched in his hand they were ready. As soon as he stepped into the President’s office he was ambushed by a group of aurors. His case was ripped from his grip. Iron shackles were clamped round his neck and wrists, immobilising him. His coat was torn off him. All while Graves stood behind the President, staring glumly at the floor as Newt struggled against his bindings.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Newt cried out, alarmed as his defences were stripped from him. His coat was shaken out, Herman rolled out, his soft cocoon came to a stop on the floor and without hesitation and auror stomped on it. With a sickening pop blood spattered on the ground and Newt let out a strangled cry of distress. Graves looked out of the window. Pickett was plucked from the shreds of his coat and a spell had him turning brown and withered before he stilled.

“No. They were innocent. They’re harmless.” Newt all but screamed. Aurors held him down in a chair, iron shackles and chains wrapped round him to keep him in place. Graves stared at the wall behind Newt, face blank. “Please, they haven’t done anything. Why are you doing this? I thought my papers were in order, the Ministry had said I have permission to be here with my creatures. What’s changed? What’s going on?”

“If you’ll calm down Mister Scamander.” Picquery stared at him impassively. Newt licked his dry lips and glanced between her and Graves. Betrayal was written all over his face. “Last night a Quintaped rampaged through Brooklyn. We have every reason to believe it escaped from your case. That breaches every agreement we’ve had with the Ministry of Magic. People died as a result of your carelessness. We’re now taking you and your case into custody. Your case will be destroyed and you will await trial.”

“A Quintaped? I’ve never even seen one. I’ve heard of them but please, believe me, I’ve never encountered one. Let alone have one in my case. They’re a very dangerous creature, they would endanger the others in my case. Please. Don’t do this. I’m begging you.” Newt’s voice broke, tears brimmed in his eyes.

“Cut the crocodile tears Mister Scamander. You’re fooling nobody.”

“Percival. Please.” Newt beseeched. “You know, tell them.” Graves turned towards the case and avoided looking anywhere near Newt. The aurors approached the case, one flipped the lid open and they cautiously descended. Newt strained against his binds as screeches and growls began to drift out of the case. Flashes of light erupted and Newt screamed.

“No! No! They’re innocent. You can’t kill them. Please no. I’ll do anything you need me to. But you can’t kill them.” The sounds of fighting became more distant as the teams swept deeper into the case, killing indiscriminately.

“Please.” Newt’s voice was hoarse, broken and tears flowed freely. The cracks of rapid fire apparitions rang through the room. Theseus and a team of aurors stood with their wands raised. He took in the room at large until he got to Newt, stripped and strapped down, the iron collar digging into the soft skin of his neck. He was a frightening sight before but an enraged Theseus made even a seasoned veteran re-evaluate their position against him.

“What’s the meaning of this?” his voice was cold, words harshly bitten out. The aurors and disposal team were climbing out of the case, covered in scratches, blood – though not all it theirs – and the last one out cast a spell into the case. The smell of smoke and the crackling of fire filled the otherwise silent room.

“I repeat. What is the meaning of this Picquery?” Theseus sounded like soft thunder before a lightning storm.

“A Quintaped rampaged through Brooklyn last night. We believe Mister Scamander here is to be held responsible for it. People died last night. As I told him, that broke any and all agreements and understandings we may have had with the Ministry of Magic. How did you even get here?”

“The case had a protection charm in it. Any instance of mass panic amongst the creatures and I get notified. It’s a failsafe should anything happen to Newt I’d know about it. A Quintaped though?” Theseus frowned. “Newt, was it yours?”

“You know it wasn’t. Please. ‘Seus. They killed them all. My creatures. Dougal. Niff. Bernadette. All the defenceless babies.” Newt broke off into sobs.

“Release him.” Theseus barked. Nobody moved. He raised his wand. “I said release him.”

Graves moved, he undid all the chains and squeezed Newt’s shoulder as the collar fell away. Newt jerked away from him.

“Traitor.” he hissed and Graves took a step back, head hanging in shame.

“Director Graves was only doing his job Mister Scamander. I asked him to find a way to contain you. Any feelings he may or may not have had towards you were not part of my plan. Now I don’t know if he faked his affections for you in order to get closer or not. Either way, I needed information and as my Director for Magical Law Enforcement he got that information through whatever means necessary.” Picquery cut in.

“I didn’t fake it. I care for you Newt. I didn’t want this. I swear.” Graves looked at Newt for the first time since the magizoologist stepped into the room. His eyes were full of sorrow and regret.

“A Quintaped just so happened to rampage through Brooklyn when my brother was here to be blamed for it. How oddly convenient.” Theseus grumbled.

“What are you insinuating General Scamander?” Picquery’s voice was sharp.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. It’s just so strange that yesterday there was a breach on Isle of Drear. By an American team. Funny, isn’t it? Yes we know it was the Americans. Each nation that has access to the unplottable island had been given separate apparition and portkey points for safety. Imagine our surprise when the wards flared where MACUSA’s points are.” Theseus’ smile was vicious. “Now, not only have you falsely detained a British citizen, a delegate of the Ministry, you have tried to frame him, caused undue and unnecessary distress, humiliation and to top it all off you have destroyed a lifetime’s worth of work. This is as good as a declaration of war. Next thing you’ll tell me you were going to sentence him to death for his alleged crimes.”

Graves’ head shot up, eyes wide in surprise not only had they framed Newt but were also going to execute him because he didn't adhere to their ideals. He felt sick.

“Our justice system is not yours to criticise.” Picquery bit out.

“You were going to kill him?” Graves asked.

“At what point were you going to inform the Ministry of this?” Theseus ignored Graves.

“The appropriate channels would have been followed.”

“You disgust me. Just because your ego couldn’t handle what happened almost a year ago doesn’t mean you have the right to destroy someone’s life. Expect to hear from the Ministry shortly. I’m taking Newt home before he has an ‘accident’ that you had absolutely nothing to do with except masterminding it.” Theseus pulled Newt to his side and they, along with Theseus’ team disapparated in a series of cracks.

“You really were going to kill him, weren’t you?” Graves broke the silence and he faced the President.

“Don’t act so surprised Graves. He is a menace to wizard kind. I would have been doing everyone a favour.”

Graves gawped at her, trying to find words. He couldn't continue like this. Before he could find a way to phrase his immediate resignation a crack sounded in the room again and Theseus appeared next to him. He grabbed Graves by the back of the neck and looked at the President.

“I’m taking him as collateral.”

They popped out of existence before anyone could react. Picquery glanced at the still smoking case in annoyance.

“Get that out of here. Destroy it completely. I don’t ever want to see it again. And if either of the Scamanders or Graves are seen here again, arrest them on sight.”

She watched everyone leave her office, taking the now shut case with them though it continued to billow noxious smoke through the cracks. A wave of her wand cleared the room of the lingering stench of burning and smoke. She sighed and grabbed the nearest report. Life doesn’t stop for drama, she still had work to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi over at tumblr. I'm ladyoftheshrimp. I rarely post but welcome random people saying hello.


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